


Pray For Rain

by OrianDCate



Series: Same Song, Different 'Verse [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amatakka, Gen, Storytelling, Tatooine Culture (Star Wars), Tatooine Folklore (Star Wars), Tatooine Slave Culture (Star Wars), Tricksters, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28483908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrianDCate/pseuds/OrianDCate
Summary: The lighting has struck. The bush has burned. Only Ekkreth now knows where the fire will spread. Sequel to Pray For Lightning.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Anakin Skywalker & Shmi Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker & Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo, Leia Organa & Anakin Skywalker
Series: Same Song, Different 'Verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086440
Comments: 5
Kudos: 68





	Pray For Rain

Disclaimer: We are not now that which we once were.

* * *

_“Everybody has their price;_

_Is that true? Is that right?_

_Who is our enemy?_

_Today it’s you; tomorrow, me._

_Well, that wind is blowing hard outside_

_And the fires of war, they still burn so bright;_

_I’m praying for some rain tonight!”_

_\- The Devil Makes Three, “Pray For Rain”_

* * *

The Grandmother was old.

Older than her birthday, the other Amatakka used to say. They would laugh when they said it. Anakin would laugh, too. Although he didn’t know why.

It was the Grandmother who first told them the stories. The one who first revealed to them that there was something that not even Depur could take away: their history. The stories of Tatooine, of Ekkreth, Lukka, and Leia, were as old as the desert itself. And they would always remain, until the day Ar-Amu released her tears and let the sky weep once more. 

And every time Anakin and the other young Amatakka would visit the Grandmother, she would always have a new story to tell them. Sometimes of Ebra, the Prophet; sometimes of the Outsiders, who came even before the desert.

But the story he both loved and remembered the best was the one of how Ekkreth became a slave.

The Grandmother had only ever told it once: she said that once was all it needed to be heard. She had gazed off into the distance, and said that there was only one story heard less by the Amatakka: the story of Nittura, the Dark-lighter. And she prayed that she would never have to tell it. But the story of how Ekkreth became a slave was one every Amatakka needed to hear. And so she shut the door against the cold of the night, took a sip of her tzai, and began.

“We have all heard the stories of Ekkreth.” She said. “The Sky-walker, the Shape-changer, the Slave-Who-Makes-Free. We know that he has a daughter: Leia. The Mighty One. The Ancient Dragon. We also know that he has a son: Lukka. The Free Hope. The Sandstorm. We know that he has a brother, Nittura, and a mother, Ar-Amu. But what I have yet to tell you is how Ekkreth first became a slave, then a prophet, and finally, the Sky-walker.”

A fit of coughing was cut short by another shot of tzai. The Grandmother resumed the story, albeit with a slightly more raspy voice then normal. “Now, children, this is how it began. Once upon a time, not very long after the Last Rain and the Outsiders came, there was a man named Depur. And he was the first of his name, for he had learned from the Outsiders not only how to be a Master, but how to be the greatest Master of all. For where the Outsiders were cruel and savage, Depur disguised his cruelty with a smile and kind words. And to those who were able to see through his disguise, Depur did pay many wuippipi for them to pretend to be blind. Thus it was that in all the world, only the slaves and Ar-Amu knew the truth of Depur.”

* * *

Kala was dead.

Shmi had told her not to run; told her she would be putting the whole Flight in danger. Kala hadn’t listened.

She never did.

“Why?” Kala had asked. Over and over again. “Why? Why won’t anyone help?”

And every time, Shmi would sigh and reply, “Because they don’t believe there is a reason to.”

* * *

“Now, Ar-Amu knew the plight of her children, and how their backs groaned under Depur’s load. And so, when she heard their cries, she sent a son unto them to deliver them.”

* * *

The midwife held Shmi’s son (her _son)_ gently as she wrapped him in the cloths of the desert. “What will you name him?”

And Shmi spoke the name he had already been given by Ar-Amu. “Anakin. His is Anakin.”

* * *

“But Depur had been a slave to the Outsiders, and he knew the stories just as well. And so he knew the signs that told him that Ar-Amu had sent the Sky-walker to free the slaves. Now, Depur was as clever as he was cruel, and he saw a way to turn the Sky-walker away from his name's meaning.”

* * *

_“We will watch your career with great interest…”_

* * *

“And so it was that Depur took the boy Ekkreth into his home, and raised him as if he had been his own son. And in time, Ekkreth forgot where it was he came from. He forgot his brother, Nittura; he forgot his mother, Ar-Amu. Ekkreth became Depur’s most loyal slave, for he had forgotten where he came from. And Depur gave him a new name, one that the slaves would come to hate as much as Depur himself. And his name was…”

* * *

_“Henceforth, you shall be known as Darth…Vader.”_

* * *

“…Umakkar. The bringer of rain had become the storm, and what was once good was twisted for destruction. Now, one day, it happened that Umakkar was walking through the desert. For a slave had escaped Depur, and since Umakkar had been the one to catch him and punish him, to Umakkar fell both the slave’s belongings and the task of finding them. His search was a failure; and since Depur had a new task for him, he turned once more away from the desert and back towards Depur’s palace. But as he turned back, he was forced to walk through the storm that he had brought with him.”

* * *

_A storm was coming._

_Vader could feel it in the air; smell it in the wind._

_The storms of Tatooine could never be mistaken for those of any other world; and to one who had grown up on the edges of the Jutland Wastes and Dune Sea, the signs of an approaching gale were unmistakable. There was no lie in the flicker of haze in the horizon; in the ache that grew deep with the bones of Ar-Amu's children._

_There was a time when Anakin Skywalker had been counted among the latter; when he, too, could have felt the approaching storm. But Anakin Skywalker was dead. Darth Vader had taken his place; and Darth Vader had no time for either feelings or storms._

_He would carry on through them._

* * *

“And so it was that in the storm, Umakkar was forced to face all that he had become. For Ar-Amu sent to him his brother, Nittura; the Dark-lighter. And Nittura reminded Umakkar that once, he had another name.”

* * *

_“You have forgotten where you come from, Sky-walker. You have forgotten the meaning of your name…”_

* * *

“Kuuta’dun, is what Nittura called him. No-name. And Umakkar knew it to be true. And so he listened when Nittura spoke, and told to him the one story no Grandmother ever wishes to tell: the story of the Dark-lighter. And when the story was done, Nittura vanished, and the storm along with him. For Umakkar was no more, and Ekkreth was alive again. The Sky-walker had remembered his name, and the message within it. The message that Ar-Amu had given, oh so long ago… _let my people go.”_

* * *

Anakin began with the clones.

He had always done his best to keep what _vode_ he could in the ranks of the 501st; it was the best place for him to protect them, after all. So naturally, no one, especially Depur, would ever care that he began to do a little “recruiting” on the side from the other clone battalions. Honestly, Tarkin even went so far as to _thank_ him for putting all the _vode_ close together. Granted, it might have been because the 501st was the definition of a frontline unit, and the sooner Tarkin could get rid of the clones the better, but it was the thought that counted.

And because they were a frontline unit, no one seemed to care whenever casualty numbers seemed to…fluctuate. He knew perfectly well what Kix was doing down in that medbay of his, and Kix knew that he knew, and he knew that Kix knew that he knew, so they were all very smug together.

After all, at the end of the day, blood was thicker than water.

* * *

“And so the first trick that Ekkreth played upon Depur was turning Depur’s water to blood…”

* * *

Tarkin was far too smart for his own good.

Luckily, in the new Empire, his kind was vastly outnumbered. A new generation of commanders and captains was coming up; one that had never experienced the horrors of the Clone Wars.

Exactly what Anakin needed.

He kept around only the most stodgy of officers; the most by-the-book boneheads he could dig up. After all, everyone knew Darth Vader much preferred efficiency to original thinking, didn’t he? And so the Fleet was kept full of groveling yes-men who would never dare to tell Vader no.

Toadies, the lot of them.

* * *

“And so the second trick Ekkreth played upon Depur was the filling of his palace with frogs…”

* * *

The Rebels were growing more daring.

Why else would they allow Pooja Naberrie to run (and be elected) as the Senator for Naboo?

Depur had recalled him to Imperial Center; and he could see why. Naberrie, Organa, Mothma…familiar names. To both him, and Depur. His job was to tighten security; if one of the Rebel senators so much as twitched the wrong way, he was to give them to Tarkin.

So naturally, he did the exact opposite.

The Rebels never did find out just who slipped them the guard schedule for Palpatine’s office. All they had was a single word: Ekkreth.

And about two-thousand bugs hidden throughout the Senate building.

* * *

“And so the third trick Ekkreth played upon Depur was to set loose bugs into his bedchambers…”

* * *

Anakin had spent the last twenty years leaping before he looked.

It was time to break the habit.

He needed information; all he could possibly get. The _vode_ were the best when it came to slicing, for one simple reason: they trusted him. Or, to be more accurate, they trusted Kix. Kix was the one who could get them out if they wanted, the one who killed the chips dead where they sat in each clone’s mind. And so when Kix asked them for a small favor here and there, everyone was perfectly willing to keep their mouth shut.

His network was built in much the same way as the Freedom Flights: all word of mouth. The only electronic records kept were piecemeal, divvied up between random members of the division. No one knew everything, not even Vader. But he certainly knew enough.

And everywhere Vader went, he always made sure to leave Kix a convenient backdoor into the security systems of whatever planet had invoked the Emperor’s ire.

And flies on the wall came in more than one variety…

* * *

“And so the fourth trick that Ekkreth played upon Depur was the destruction of his food-stores with flies…”

* * *

The galaxy had relied more on the Jedi Agricorps than they had originally thought.

At least, that was the image Anakin decided to portray. What officers were sent his way that were too inept even for his uses, he sent onwards to places like Bandomeer. And so the rations of the Imperial Navy and Army suffered.

The whispers were all the same: how much better the food had been back when the Agricorps ran things. How the feed-grain was co much worse nowadays, how the livestock was getting sick more easily…

An Army marched on it’s stomach. And those of the Imperial variety were more than just a little bit hollow.

* * *

“And so the fifth trick Ekkreth played upon Depur was to release a pestilence into his fields…”

* * *

Outbreaks always happened after a war.

It was the way of things; and Depur had thought himself well-prepared for when they eventually came.

To be fair, he would have been, if someone hadn’t mysteriously let slip exactly which shipments of emergency medicine were being rerouted (read: bribed) into visiting the worlds that belonged to the Senators in Palpatine’s back pocket. Such a shame that those were the only shipments targeted by pirates along the Hydian Way.

Such a shame indeed.

* * *

“And so the sixth trick Ekkreth played upon Depur was to strike down his workers with boils…”

* * *

The Separatist Council was dead.

Such a shame all those access codes they’d had were just laying around on Mustafar, wasn’t it? All those wonderful droid armies, stood down all across the galaxy, just waiting for someone to stumble across the right chain of numbers?

Then again, the odds of someone clever enough managing to find the planet the Separatists had died on, let alone the actual codes themselves, were astronomically low.

Weren’t they?

* * *

“And so the seventh trick Ekkreth played upon Depur was to call down hail…”

* * *

The really great thing about having eyes everywhere was that it became ridiculously easy to find out if there were any skeletons in the closets of any low-level Moffs or Governors who became just a little bit too good at their jobs.

People tended to forget that the Empire was basically just the Republic with a new name slapped on the paperwork; it made it that much easier to pretend the corruption had disappeared along with the Jedi. But it was still there, firmly entrenched in everything from the bureaucracy to the ISB. Oh sure, the Emperor’s Hands had much more free reign than their predecessors had while Palpatine was Chancellor, but they could only do so much. And if Vader were to direct their attentions primarily toward the most personally inconveniencing Imperial officials, well, it’s not like anyone would blame him.

And as for the rest of them? He would willingly let the locusts have their fill.

* * *

“And so the eighth trick Ekkreth played upon Depur was the summoning of locusts upon his grain…”

* * *

Every now and then, Anakin would come across true talent hidden within the ranks of the Empire. Piett was one; Thrawn, another. Even Krennic had his uses; for all his bluster, the man was leagues better than Tarkin. But not one of them was ever right for the job he himself would never dare take: that of the Emperor’s replacement.

Until the day he met Senator Leia Organa.

He had naturally been instructed to investigate her, considering her apparent acquaintanceship with the good Senator Naberrie. And it was during the course of said investigation that he found something that opened his eyes to Organa’s true potential:

When she was three, she had dropped a water balloon on Tarkin’s head.

From then on out, he did his level best to keep Leia afloat in the deep waters of Imperial Court; at least, as much as he could without giving himself away. But when she managed to hold a crumbling building above her head long enough for Anakin to pull her and her fellow Senators to safety, he was forced to take a more…active…role in her safety.

Namely, training her to conceal her presence in the Force.

As much as it galled him, anything further would have to wait. Coruscant was no place to learn lightsaber combat without one of the Inquisitors noticing.

The Inquisitors…they would have to go. They were loyal to the Emperor, and the Emperor alone. The Hands were less of a bother; no less loyal, but far less trained in the Force. But he couldn’t start picking them off one by-one, either; that was how Palpatine had dealt with the Jedi, and he was bound to recognize the pattern.

In the end, he was forced to strike a deal. The Rebels were strong now; but they still had yet to realize the failings of the Republic they preached. The only one who knew the truth of the corruption of both the Jedi and the Senate was also the only one who could keep the Inquisitors occupied and well away from his plans: Ahsoka. Oh, he’d known perfectly well she’d survived. Really, leaving behind only _one_ lightsaber, come on Snips. And using your facial markings for your super-secret bunch of spooks? (Granted, Thrawn had been the one to notice that particular detail).

He’d caught up to her on Malachor. Their reunion had been…fiery. She hadn’t recognized him (some part of him was both grateful and sad), but she _had_ recognized the name of Ekkreth. He’d kept using the name whenever he was forced to deal with the Rebels directly, and it was the only one that could in no way be linked back to him. Well, unless one was Amatakka.

He had laid out some of his plans (only the ones Thrawn and Leia thought it wise to reveal), and Ahsoka had immediately jumped on board. She and Kix had worked together before, after all. And the fact _Darth Vader_ had turned a blind eye to the medic’s work with the chips was all she needed to hear to trust her former brother-in-arms once again.

The deal was simple. He would do his best to funnel the Inquisitors into traps left by Ahsoka…and in return, eventually, she would teach Leia how to fight with the Force.

Fighting with words was something Leia was already an expert at.

Too much of an expert.

He got all of two days’ warning before Depur dissolved the Imperial Senate. Leia was the only one he could get out in time.

He handed her over to Ahsoka…and immediately headed for the Death Star. Galen Erso’s contingency had been noticed only by him; but once he had informed the scientist of his true goal for the battle station, Erso had been perfectly willing to reverse the changes. Thrawn had told him countless times of the Outsiders; of their ability to corrupt entire planets. The Death Star was practically custom-made for their eradication.

But first, a test. Such a shame Tarkin would never live to see the success of “his” weapon.

Then again, he didn’t think the Grand Moff would be too happy about the site of their test being the Imperial Palace.

* * *

“And so the ninth trick Ekkreth played upon Depur was to cast his land into darkness…”

* * *

Imperial Center was gone. Coruscant stood once again.

What was left of it, anyway.

Ahsoka would have been horrified; but in the end, it was worth it. The Emperor was dead: he had felt it through the Force.

Thrawn and Leia were already excellent friends; and Krennic had been made to see the necessity of certain…arrangements. They three would rule the Empire as a Triumvirate, rebuilding it into what Padme would have wanted. The Rebels were more than welcome to go on rebelling; their Republic would crumble sooner or later under its own weight.

If only because the Empire was more friendly nowadays to the Outer Rim than they were.

The _vode_ were ready; Vader’s Fist was once again made of iron. And they would wipe the galaxy clean of not only the Hutts, but the Inquisitors, the Hands, the Banking Clans, Black Sun, the Syndicates…anyone who thought they had the right to put another in chains. There would never again be another Depur, so long as Anakin drew breath.

* * *

“And so the final trick Ekkreth played upon Depur was the death of the first-borns; all of Depur’s greatest achievements, turned to dust. And when Depur at last lay dying, he looked up into the eyes of his most trusted servant Umakkar, and saw only Ekkreth. Then Ekkreth laughed, and became a bird, and flew away. And that is how Ekkreth became first a slave, then a trickster, and then a Sky-walker.”

And Anakin Skywalker remembered the story Grandmother had told, all those years ago.

She had been right.

He had only needed to hear the story once.


End file.
